Messages Left Unread

Right before I was about to register for seminary and get my Masters of Divinity, I broke my collarbone.

Not in some intense accident or wild wipeout.

I was in shallow, calm water, on a dirty beach in Jakarta, Indonesia.

It was my own surfboard that hit me. A freak accident… or so I thought.

The timing was uncanny. I’d been filled with anxiety, having subtle panic attacks for weeks leading up to that moment—and at the same time waking up to hearing the most beautiful, loving things from God.

I was confused. Torn.

I chalked the anxiety up to not wanting to give up travel for a year while in school, so I booked a trip to Bali and Thailand to squeeze in some adventure before I committed.

The accident happened within the first 24 hours of that trip, the day before I would’ve signed up for my classes and gone all-in on a life I thought was my destiny.

But my body had other plans.

Actually, my soul did.

And it had to bitch slap me into stillness to get my attention.

Because the truth is:

I had become so disconnected from my body, my emotions, and my instincts, that I couldn’t read any of the signs anymore.

So the universe broke a major bone to break a major pattern.

It definitely worked.

As I lay immobilized in a foreign country with an ace bandage for a sling, no insurance, no money for a surgery, and my brother who experiences schizophrenia flipping out, I had my first true moment of peace and clarity.

So clear I made the decision to leave religion in pursuit of God.

That collarbone break yanked me out of a death trap of spiritual performance, perfectionism, and self-sacrifice.

AND HERE’S THE PART I STILL WEEP OVER:

The symbology of it all was perfect, and in my opinion, shows just how much LOVE is orchestrating everything for our good.

The ocean was filthy, trash floating everywhere, with “cleaners” sweeping up piles of trash and burying them in the sand on the beach. A symbol of me swimming in emotional filth, doing surface level work of burying the problems in the sand, only to be swept back up into the ocean.

I didn’t want to be there, I didn’t want to be in that water, and I was already planning our moves to Bali. But I went anyway because I had a crush on my brother’s friend. A symbol of how I learned to keep myself in unclean and unsafe situations for the hope of love.

The water was mid-shin deep—the part of the body that represents childhood years 0-7.

And there I was, trying to clean my board with polluted water.

Trying to make things beautiful from within something toxic.

Sacrificing my comfort for the hope of love.

And my body said, no more.

The message was loud and poetic:

How you’re reaching for love will never clean you.

It will never nourish you.

It will only destroy you.

So while the break did pull me out of one death trap, I hadn’t yet learned how to live.

Because even after that awakening, I kept trying to heal through achievement. I mean I dove head first into more healing retreats, self-help books, spiritual studies, cleanses… more, more, more!

And in the midst of my revival I found myself in a doctor’s office hearing words I never expected, “You need a hip replacement.”

A hip replacement? At my age?

He went on to tell me that the blood supply to my leg had been compromised and it was starting to die, and that they would need to cut part of the bone off, stick a metal rod in my leg, along with a new hip joint.

That moment cracked me open all over again.

Sure my revival had included some education about trauma and plenty of neat tools to move emotions around it, but I still hadn’t made contact with the trauma stored in my body.

I hadn’t grieved.

I hadn’t felt the rage.

I hadn’t told the truth to myself about the abuses I endured.

I was still trying to become holy without getting honest.

But it was here now, screaming in my face and I wasn’t ready for this.

This was not on my spiritual ascension plan. And to be honest, I felt betrayed a bit because I was “doing all the right things.”

I had spent years living for God—volunteering my ass off at the church, mentoring foster children, working at camps for abused children, taking in my nephew when no one else could, earning a college degree, climbing the corporate ladder, bought a house, tithing more than 10%, funding missionaries.

I devoured religious and self-help books, led Bible studies, hit the streets to evangelize. And when I started waking up to emotions and the “embodied” journey, I went all in.

If there was a poster girl for drowning in good works and positive mindest— It was me.

So you can imagine the shock—no, the spiritual bitch slap—of hearing that I still wasn’t healed!

I decided it was time to finally cash in on the body language reading I had been avoiding and see if I could get some answers, and boy did I!

The reading was incredibly accurate at describing my past, that it forced me to see how the foundation I was standing on was never stable to begin with.

• My energy and innocence were ravaged from the get-go and put me in a lived state of survival mode.

• I learned to be obedient and over-function, verses trusting my gut instincts and how things made me feel.

• How I had collapsed under the pressure of performance and acceptance from others, and in doing so, had hidden the most essential parts of myself.

So I stopped everything.

I listened.

I studied.

I walked back through the map of my own body and asked it:

What have you been trying to tell me?

The Myth of “Mindset-Only” Healing

For years, I believed that if I just thought right, prayed hard enough, served enough, sacrificed enough—I’d be alright. I’d eventually be healed and whole.

But mindset without addressing emotional root causes is just mental gymnastics.

And action driven by fear of punishment, is like living on a hamster wheel, constantly running but never understanding what you’re running from or to.

You can’t outthink or outrun the issues stored in your tissues. They are there to be heard and reconciled.

My wake up call was a dying leg and literal bone-on-bone pain, and it turns out, that death and pain were the invitation.

To stop bypassing.

To stop outsourcing my power to churches, books, gurus.

And to finally go inward and ask “Why am I like this?”

Body Language: The Original Language of the Soul

I struggle calling this work Body Language because there’s still some separation from what it really is: the communication from the Soul through the body.

The body is the vessel of the Soul that lives in you, so Body Language is really the communication from your Soul about how much of Soul you’re expressing.

The point is, the Soul tells the truths you may not be humanly ready or able to see yet. It speaks in posture, tension, the ways you collapse or build up armor.

It tells the truth, even when your mind can’t or won’t.

When I discovered this language I started to decode the way my Soul had been protecting me:

• Frozen shoulders? Showing me I was fearful of experiencing love, in shock from the things I’ve seen and lived

• The ankle that popped out during sports games? A signal of emotional dissociation, a body that didn’t feel safe where she stood, and at the same time unsupported to take a step towards safety

• Swollen scar tissue in my ankle? Unable to drain the emotional toxins, building up protection, while at the same time creating more instability.

• The double jointed hips? Years of dissociation from my s*xual energy due to unresolved childhood s*xual trauma which led to patterns of overgiving, over-doing, over-carrying, and hyper-independence.

The way I walked through the world was literally shaped by my pain story, and my pain story left me vulnerable to experiencing more pain!

The Stories Stored in Our Joints and Posture

Once I started looking with new eyes, I saw how every joint had a journal, every muscle a message, literally all the issues were in the tissues.

The tight upper lip? A bitter life filled with resentment and rigidity.

The shoulder that always aches? The burden that was never yours to carry.

The autoimmune disorder? A life so unsafe that the body starts attacking itself.

Our bodies map our emotional lives—not metaphorically, but biologically.

That’s why I created The Body Archetypes

What was birthed out of listening to my story became the most important work of my life.

The body remembers everything and it will speak to you in pain, posture, tension, illness, injury—until you finally hear it.

Body Archetypes is not a full degree in psychosomatic medicine.

It’s not another program to check off your to do list.

It’s not a magic pill.

It’s a starting point.

A re-introduction to the parts of you that have been hiding in plain sight.

It gives you just enough body language to understand your story.

To see what’s shaped you.

To feel what’s frozen in you.

To unhook from inherited patterns.

And to begin reverse engineering your pain into power.

You’ll start to recognize yourself—maybe for the first time.

You’ll learn the archetypes that show up in your body’s structure, your tension, your shape, your patterns of protection.

You’ll find compassion for why you’ve adapted the way you have.

And you’ll reclaim the agency to choose something new.

This work is sacred.

It’s powerful.

And it’s yours now.

Ready to begin? Join 

The Body Archetypes now.

Whether you’ve spent your life over-functioning or hiding…

Whether you feel stuck in patterns that don’t make sense or pain that doesn’t seem to heal…

Your body holds the blueprint. And we’re about to decode it together.

💥 Limited-time offer:

Sign up now with a loved one and you both get 50% off your enrollment.

Because healing accelerates when we walk it together.

We start May 4th!